Grace
by Ed's Tomato
Summary: Formerly: A Choice and a Mistake Set after the first movie. Recovering the battle at Liberty Island proves an unexpected experience as Toad seeks the out the X-Men's aid. Completely revamped.
1. Prologue: I Once Was Lost

_A/N: I've decided to rewrite this one (as I hate it and have for the last few years) but it's nearly 5 am so I didn't get anything more down than a prologue. Still, I feel it's a vast improvement over the original. I'll leave up the original stuff for the time being, but I'll be taking it down as I replace it._

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**_Prologue: I Once Was Lost..._**

Pain is a warning mechanism. It not an old friend, nor an enemy. Sometimes it's a whisper to beware infection, sometimes a constant nudge to take it easy; it was a scream now. A demand that he stop moving and admit that he was in real trouble this time.

His back braced against the wall so that he could catch his breath and grit his teeth against the wave of agony that shook him. His fingers, calloused with years of hard work, worked up through the layers of fabric until he could feel the reckless pound of his own heartbeat. _Damn_. He had been in touch with his own body for long enough to know this kind of pain was not something he could safely ignore, but he had to press on. He didn't see another option, at least, not one he wanted to admit.

It was three am and he was in sight of the facility that was holding Magneto. It had been no easy feat to find where they were holding the infamous mutant, and he'd burned bridges with contacts he'd hoped to have for many years to come, but here he was: Hope. Without Hope or the direction it gave him, he would have to face a life without purpose and the prospect was too grim.

But hope, they say, is like a flame, though it does not burn eternal. Pain returned to scream in his face, to numb his left arm and to demand that he stop. His head bowed and his lids shut to blot out that vision of hope. He had to accept the inevitable. It was quite possible he was dying. There weren't many men could survive being struck by lightning or the swim in the Hudson that followed, he should have counted his blessings and found medical attention. But instead, he'd run himself ragged tracking down his hope and was now forced to face the fact he would not be the one to release him.

The number had been in his wallet for a good many years now. Soft from the rub of his thumb across it, but still legible. It's existence was a source of constant shame and self loathing, but perhaps now it would serve it's purpose and save one lonely life. Even as his body began to shut down, he punched in the numbers and listened to the ring. He didn't doubt they would come for him, and that somehow made his shame all the more palpable. He'd wronged those at the end of this line. He'd tried to kill them and they him, they were mortal sworn enemies, and he would not have gone to their aid. But they would come to his.

He didn't hear the groggy words as they greeted him, just slurring in response to the sounds, "_I'na know who'lse t'call_."

He managed to make himself a clearer part of the conversation from there, though his eyes were shut as he slumped in the bottom of the phone booth and held the hard plastic to his ear.

"Who is this?" He recognized the suspicious voice then: Cyclops, he couldn't remember the man's real name. He saw no reason to lie. Not now.

"Toad." The silence followed and stretched on through the erratic heartbeats he was sure would end soon. Toad," He repeated.

"I heard you. Why are you calling?"

"I'm ..." Then he admitted what he'd been reluctant to admit to himself, "Having a heart attack. I got nobody else. There's nobody else t'call."

And just as he'd known they would, they came for the young amphibious terrorist. He was no longer conscious when they found the corner he'd related over the line, simply a sad little lump curled at the bottom of the phone booth.


	2. Wake Up, Toad

_A/N: Well since I have the second chapter up (albeit shorter than I would have preferred,and written while sleep deprived) I'm going to take down the previously written stuff. The story may go in a slightly different direction, or at least will be completely cleaned up and hopefully better written._

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**_Chapter 1: Wake up, Toad._**

The pain was gone. A smirk graced his blistered green lips even before he attempted to open his eyes. Below the bliss and drug induced stupor, he was aware of where he was. When he opened his eyes there would be questions and quite possibly threats, and certainly repercussions, but with his eyes shut there was just the pleasant buzz of morphine that kept him from giving a shit about much of anything.

Oh, it was a concern that Magneto was still in prison. It was a concern that he was in his enemy's stronghold and in a great state of incapacitation. It was even a slight bother that he didn't know where Mystique or Sabretooth were, but above all else there was the drugs.

"I know you're awake," His buzz was abruptly ruined by the frigid tones of Dr. Jean Grey. The corner of his mouth tugged down drastically, before he hazarded the lift of one lid to peer at her. She was lovely, all sharp perfect features and dramatically arched eyebrows, it didn't endear her any to him.

Mutants like her didn't know what it was to be hated and feared, not like the freaks of the world. Not like Toad. Worse even that she was stunning enough to be in films and had probably not known a moment of real hardship in her life. He made a face even though it stretched the tight skin uncomfortably.

"Bully f'you," He offered her, dilated gaze following the swell of her lips as they pursed over his chart.

"Your heart's in better shape that I expected." She'd yet to look up at him. "I think with medication you should be able to avoid surgery. So long as you take it easy."

"Small miracles," He quipped, "What all's that entail?"

"Less assassinations." She injected something into his drip but he didn't feel any change. He smirked even though she wasn't funny, watching the absent way she brushed deep red hair out of her eyes and jotted a note. "We'll discuss removing your restraints once the Professor has recovered."

He wasn't surprised to be strapped down, hadn't even noticed it, too overwhelmed with his morphine high and studying her firm appealing features. It took him a moment to remember that he was responsible for Professor Xavier's uncertain predicament, or rather his people were responsible. Mystique to be precise. A cocky grin spread over his face, further warping the damage and displaying a thoroughly unpleasant set of short malformed teeth and an overabundance of greenish gum. Would serve the meddling old codger right if he never woke up. Trapped in that big know-it-all cranium. He didn't know enough. All the pretties the old man saved and Toad left all alone to follow a madman.

"I wouldn't laugh, without his intervention you're a likely a candidate for prison."

"Is he even old enough for prison?" Wolverine looked the same as he always did, regardless of the wear and the years. His hair was in a perpetual state of mess and he seemed more at home in jeans and an undershirt than anything else, a few days scruff layered over his jaw. Despite bringing Rogue back from the dead and spending a few comatose hours in bed, he looked capable of any of his usual violence.

Toad scowled. The truth was he didn't know is he was old enough to go to prison and that in itself was a source of great shame for the young man. What kind of person didn't know how old he was? What kind of human man didn't have a birthday? When he didn't feel like a person, which was often, that fact haunted him along with the host of other issues that the problem stemmed from.

"Well we'll have time to decide, I guess," The man tugged a folding chair in arms reach of the bed and settled into it, feet propped at the end of the mattress, "If we need anything, we'll call, Jeannie. So, I'm in charge of watching you, everyone else is busy cleanin' up the mess your friends made."

The redheaded doctor left the room in a flurry of white lab coat and a clack of black heels on the linoleum, casting a smirk of appreciation at the man who was not her boyfriend. There was something in it that Toad picked up on, a crinkling at the corner of her mouth that reminded his drug addled brain of something he'd read once.

"She's a hidden kiss for you, mate."

Wolverine looked amused at the outburst and spent a breath contemplating it's meaning.

"Alright, I give, what's a hidden kiss?"

"Not a sodding clue. Read it in a book once, but I guarantee she's got it f'you."

"Don't worry about it, kid, you got more to worry about than my love life."

"Truer words," He said softly, eyes falling shut again.

_"Weakness, Mortimer, will not be tolerated," Magneto glared down at him, larger than life, and Toad had never been so small. There was cruel pleasure on the old man's face as metal sliced through the air toward his prone form. "I'm very disappointed in you."_

_Though he watched his own blood splatter the floor in an array of wild artistic gestures, and the pain was overwhelming, he did not die. He shuddered under the berating tone, helpless and exposed. _

_"You're every bit as pathetic as that first day I found you, eating garbage on the street. The moment I'm gone you run to our enemies. I am so disappointed in you, though I don't know why. I should never have expected more from a Toad."_

The hoarse cry torn from his throat was guttural and ragged, his body thrashing beneath the straining restraints. Heavy hands rested on his shoulders to hold him down and anchor him back to reality, even as his doctor injected him with a sedative.

"TOAD!"

When the shapes had come into focus and his panic abated, he watched Wolverine back away from him, wearing an expression of odd concern, and then there was the doctor directing a similar expression at him as she shone a bright light in his eyes.

"Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

It took a moment of battling his tongue for control, the coppery taste of blood still fresh.

"Yeh...yeah..I'm here."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Grey."

"Alright, good, you had a seizure, it's not uncommon after lightning strikes, but it's something we need to watch."

He was exhausted, barely listening as she moved away again, but the word seizure played over and over in his mind, thrumming like the irregular beat of his heart.

Heaviness settled within him with the knowledge he was weaker than he thought, trying to blot it out and focus on the pleasure of the drugs he was still enjoying in high doses. Liberty Island had changed everything. Just another fight, but his first encounter with the X-Men, and he'd been so damned cocky. That's what was really the most painful. He had them. He could have finished it, and they'd have been memories, organs and skin on the floor. But, he'd had to play with them, and everything had changed in the blink of an eye.

_He could have saved the world, instead he would have to live with the guilt of that ultimate failure._


	3. Good Day Sunshine

_A/N: Shorter than I would have liked again, but at least an update. :-)_

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Chapter 2: Good Day Sunshine**

As luck would have it, his luck anyway, he couldn't have saved the world. Grey took undisguised pleasure in relating just what had been wrong with the machine and why it would have not mutated the delegates, but killed them, along with most of New York. Privately, Toad thought that might have been an improvement, if not really the ultimate goal, but he knew Magneto wouldn't think so. It would have further made them the monsters, which was not in the Great Plan. Toad figured he would be a monster no matter what the legislature said, but he knew Magneto had a point.

He kept his expression sullen as she related the news, despite the fact he was inwardly quailing. He'd had a hand in building the machine, though it was Magneto's design; he hoped he wouldn't be somehow blamed for it's failure. Even more than that he wondered if he'd be able to live with himself if he was found to be at fault. She said it was the nature of the radiation itself, the mutation had been unstable; that didn't sound like a simple design flaw. He had to content himself with that.

Xavier was awake, and more unfortunately; alive. Toad supposed he shouldn't be such a bitter sod about it, considering the man was allowing his release from the restraints, but he couldn't help it. Magneto's disappointment at Xavier's stand on their plight had rubbed off onto his underlings. Toad didn't want admit to himself the other reason he was angry at Xavier, and wouldn't think on it now.

"You're not free to roam around," Jean Grey cautioned him, "You're restricted to the sub-levels when classes are not in session." She leaned down to strap a thin piece of metal around his ankle, deceptively lightweight. "You'll be under observation at all times."

"Don't have to sound so pleased," He pointed out with a narrowed gaze of displeasure, leaning down to finger the strip of metal. Magneto could have made short work of the titanium, but Toad wasn't likely to get it off himself.

"I wouldn't fiddle, if the latch is forced it you'll be pricked with a very strong sedative," She sounded nearly gleeful. He scowled at her, but pulled his hand back away from the device as though scalded.

She toned down her pleasure at his discomfort then and offered, "Just try to take it easy. If you need to reach me you can use the intercom," she motioned toward it.

Shrugging, Toad started to move experimentally, testing the paints in his joints and muscles. All things considered, not too bad. His skin still felt tight and hot to the touch, but he'd had worse. By rights, he should be a bloated corpse, floating to the surface of the Hudson, crispy and unrecognizable.

"When're th'kids in class?" He asked, not sparing her a glance as he rose to his feet and stretched, wincing with satisfaction as his joints popped. He stood nude for a moment to prove he wasn't self conscious, before he reached for nondescript grey sweats laid out for him. They'd spared him the "Xavier's School" logo-ed gear.

"In about ten minutes. Don't try to leave the grounds or you'll end up in a cell."

"Gotcha."

He watched her leave, enjoying the swell of her ass beneath the tailored pencil skirt. He hated them, but they were nice to look at. He waited fifteen minutes for good measure, sure that he didn't want to run into any of the pampered brats any more than the X-Men wanted him to.

The sun shone down over the abundant grounds, glittering off the water in the massive fountain. Toad felt like a grubby blight on the beauty of the place. His ugliness only making the grounds seem more beautiful, and the people in it.

Even injured, Toad was a climber. Hand over hand, and bare feet against the trunk of an ancient oak as he propelled himself onto the thick branches. It winded him, and he tried to ignore that fact, eyes shutting and face turned to absorb the warmth of the sun's rays on his sensitive skin. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been able to sit out in broad daylight without fear of repercussion. He was at home in the dark, with a hood pulled low over his head and his body curved in a defensive crouch.

His hands itched for a cigarette, but he hadn't any. Maybe when he talked to Grey next he could weasel a pack out of her. He very much doubted she was in a rush to see him live another decade.

This was a beautiful place to live. He tried to shut down the longing that blossomed in his breast as he watched the breeze rush through leaves and sweep over grass. Horses nickered from the barn, the sound like music. The pool was crystal clean and inviting. Inside, he knew the rooms were lavish with comforts, and the meals were full and plentiful. It would have been a dream to grow up here. If Xavier had found him, if Xavier had been the one to rescue him; he could have had this. Had school and safety. His lip curled up in a sneer, telling himself to shut the hell up as he rubbed the stress that suddenly manifested in his forehead.

He lost track of time, giving into the pleasure of fantasy and imagining how life might have been. He would have been afraid at first, as he had been when Magneto had found him. Small and green and misused. He wasn't young enough that Grey and Cyclops would have been there as teachers, but young enough that they would have been like older siblings. That was quite nearly too peculiar to imagine, though he suspected he would have enjoyed it anyway. He wondered if he'd like himself better had they been the ones to rescue him. He wondered if he'd have escaped being a killer.

Children poured out the building in a sudden rush. He hadn't heard a bell, but he supposed it must be that time. He shifted his weight, drawing in nearer to the trunk and trusting the leaves to camouflage him. He wasn't in a hurry to go back in despite Grey's warnings. Being spotted climbing down would likely be more traumatic to the little darlings than if he just sat in silence and watched them play.

There was a court on one side of the lawn and a group of the children seemed to gravitate that direction. Excited shouting preempted the game as they chose teams and rushed into position. His gold eyes were drawn not to the teenagers rushing around the court, but to the one who sat apart from them. She settled under a tree a few yards away, watching with the same longing Toad had been indulging in a few minutes before.

Rogue. It took him a moment to remember the girl's name, though he could still feel her weight on his shoulder as he'd carried her limp frame in the body bag from the train station. She was a pretty girl. The white streak in her hair was new, courtesy of the machine most likely, but only served to make her seem more exotic. He was surprised she'd survived, really, though not displeased. She wasn't an X-Man, wasn't the enemy, just another scared mutant kid.

_"Hungry?"_

_She looked up at him from where she was huddled in the cell, knees pulled up to her chest and jacket pulled tight around her. There were tears in her eyes, and her lower lip trembled, pale and chapped._

_"Am Ah gonna die?"_

_He couldn't help the slight smirk at her thick accent and the slight twinge of pleasure he felt at seeing someone beautiful hurt and lonely and afraid. It was short lived. Guilt gnawed at his stomach._

_"We all die sometime, love," He pointed out._

_She choked on her own fear as she pressed her face to her knees, shoulders shaking. He left the brown paper sack with her last meal just inside the cell and turned away._

She didn't scream when she saw him. But there was that same expression, that fear that overwhelmed and stole all the blood from her face. He couldn't hear her from where she was, but he could tell her breathing was hysterical and panicked. His smile was sad as he watched her terror. He was a monster to her, the boogeyman. He was the thing that haunted her nightmares.

A couple of the teenage boys had noticed Rogue's plight and Toad straightened as they approached the tree. He noted the way they hovered near but not too near the girl, and how neither of them touched her, even where she was clothed. He held up his hands non-threateningly as the print-ad looking blond pointed a finger at him and the air pricked with cold.

"Run get help!" Iceman shouted at Rogue, only to feel a heavy hand clap his shoulder at Cyclops joined them.

"Go on inside guys, everything's alright."

"Alright? How can y'say it's alright?" Rogue asked, her voice finding strength with incredulity.

"Rogue, go inside, we'll talk about it later."

"You knew!? Y'knew he was here!?"

Toad could hear the shock of betrayal in her voice and Cyclops apparently did too, turning to meet her gaze and tone softening.

"Go on inside, we'll talk. Everything's okay."

"Th'hell it is," She snapped at him, unappeased. _Good for her_, Toad thought as he watched her race for the barn. So lonely.

"Wasn't hurtin' nuthin," Toad pointed out as he dropped effortlessly out of the tree to land with a soft thump, feet planted and knees slightly bent.

"I know."


	4. By His Grace

_A/N: Hey you rabid Toad fans (I know how it goes, we are the few but overly enthusiastic) another chapter! Are you amazed? It's thanks to InVerdigris being out of town and me being left with excessive time on my hands. Again, it's shorter than I'd prefer, but at least the updates are regular, mmm?_ _If it seems disjointed (and this goes for the last few chapters as well) keep in mind I wrote it in the wee hours of the morning, when sleep was elusive as my vocabulary._

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_"I do not believe one can settle how much we ought to give. I am afriad the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare." C.S. Lewis._

**Chapter 3: By His Grace**

The lecture Toad was expecting didn't come, and Cyclops moved off in search of Rogue to offer what explanation he could. Left to his own devices, the amphibious young mutant slunk into the kitchen in search of libation. After a thorough perusal of the cabinets in both the kitchen and dining rooms, Toad let himself into bedrooms, slinking around like the assassin he was.

The flask was crammed beneath the mattress of one of the teenagers. It was the trendy sort that would appeal to a kid, decorated with a scantily clad devil girl and the words '_guilty pleasures_' scrawled into the metal. He took a quick swig of what proved to be sickly sweet cinnamon schnapps, winced and then another, before tucking the flask into his waistband and leaving the room purposefully.

He resolved to look more thoroughly in the adult rooms later, but took his newly acquired prize and looked for a corner to settle himself in to enjoy it. He exerted real effort in finding a spot away from the kids, as much for his own sanity as avoiding further trouble. Grey had vacated the med lab and it seemed a good a place as any. Toad hefted his muscular bulk onto a table and unscrewed the lid of his new flask to sip at the strong liquor within. It really was foul stuff, but he was willing to bet there was a high alcohol content. Teenagers were good about that kind of thing. As he drank, he scanned over the glass cabinets for any pill content of interest, willing to chuck the flask in favor of something more potent if he found it. The locks didn't escape his notice, however, so he contented himself for the time being.

"Toad?" Grey sounded distracted, sticking her head in the room to scan for him and frowning as she noticed his sudden fumble with the front of his pants. The grimace on her face indicated she was sure she'd caught him at something more distasteful than drinking.

"We're setting you up in a guest room."

"Oh," He offered in response, popping up off the table to swagger her direction, "Alright then. What'd I do t'deserve that?"

"I'm sure I don't know," She made sure her stride kept her well ahead of him, which brought a smirk to his mildly inebriated lips. "I heard you and Rogue had an encounter."

"She didn't seem pleased t'see me," He agreed.

"You should stay away from her, she's been through enough."

"That's right, poor lit'l darling, bet sh'has real scary nightmares about th'big bad terrorist."

Grey simply snorted in response and pushed open the door to his room on the second floor, in the adult wing.

"Christ, wonder how you put up th'people you actually like," He commented as he explored his new lodgings, "Solid gold sheets, mm?"

The ceilings were high and lined with crown molding, the pillows fluffy, the comforter already pulled back invitingly. Upon inspection of the dresser, he found the drawers full of clothes, dark and in his size. He frowned slightly, unsettled further as he saw a pack of cigarette's on the bedside table. Xavier's work, no doubt.

"No bathroom?"

"It's at the end of the hall, there's a schedule on the door."

"Brilliant."

She had the good grace to pull his door shut behind her and he flopped back on the bed with a groan, lifting the flask up to his mouth to chug the unpleasant remnants. His eyes shut, arms falling above his head, empty flask clanging softly as it bounced on the carpet.

The drink took it's time hitting him, but when he tried to sit up, he found the room moving unreasonably. He grinned in pleasure at the mood alteration. It wasn't much of a struggle to tug off his shirt and his pants and roll himself beneath the comforter. The sheets were heavenly on sensitive skin, and a quick fondle later he found release and relaxation in the first safety he'd had in awhile.

The knock at his door was too early to be welcome the next morning. Cyclops impatiently related the invitation to see Professor Xavier in his office before the tall man strode off to teach his first class. Toad took his time, pleased with the thought he was keeping the old bastard, but wasn't foolish enough to chance his current situation, and made his way down.

He sat uncomfortably in a very comfortable chair opposite the Professor behind his desk and studying the paperweights and photos set out to catch the eye. There was a black and white of Grey, looking about eighteen years old in a ponytail beside a mare. A photo of a sixteen year old Cyclops in front of a beat up old car, holding a wrench and grinning. The golden children.

"How are you getting on?" The Professor asked kindly. Toad's gaze was drawn to the floor and he shrugged in response.

"A'right."

"You were in a bad way when you called."

"Yeh," He agreed.

"Near the facility they were holding Magneto, if I'm not mistaken."

"Were?"

"They felt compelled to move him; I'm sure you understand."

Toad snorted, leaning back in the chair and slumping low.

"If you were still entertaining plans of rescue, I urge you to reconsider," Xavier continued.

"Not really an option now, s'it?"

"I'd like to offer you a chance at a different kind of life," Xavier offered slowly rather than answer his question straight out. They both knew the young man didn't have anywhere to go.

"Your kind of life, y'mean?" Toad scowled.

"Not necessarily. While a number of your prior activities would be off limits, you would still be welcome to find your own way here. Your own life."

"No pressure t'join th'X-ranks and mold young minds?"

"None."

"Why would you do that?"

"I believe in second chances." He paused, taking the measure of Toad with his eyes, " I don't have to worry about you while you're here, do I?"

"No, y'don't have t'worry about me," He stood, feeling the air of dismissal. He was nearly to the door when he paused and asked, "You were friends with him b'fore, weren't you?"

"Yes, Erik and I were very close once, a long time ago."

Toad was walking back toward his room to think about Xavier's proposal, when he saw her for the first time since he'd come. She stopped in the hallway, facing him, regal features drawn up in a sneer. Her white hair moved, blown by the currents of the wind she gathered around her instinctively upon seeing him. Her fists clenched. She was more beautiful than he'd remembered. Her cocoa skin contrasting with the snow of her hair and the flowing petal pink of her embroidered top. She was statuesque and perfection. He hated her with a raw abandon he usually reserved for the cruelest of flatscans.

"Move," Toad ordered her, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

She didn't.

"Charles believes there is something worth redeeming in you. I do not share his sentiment."

He was nearly baring his teeth at her, his posture reflecting the same aggression as hers.

"Didn't ask f'your opinion, bitch, I told you to move."

"When you step out of line, I will be there."

"I hope you are, love, I've a score'll be settled when y'blood's splattered all over the floor."

"I believe I proved I can handle you."

"We'll see. Move, Bitch."

When she finally stepped aside, he blew a raspberry at her and shouldered his way into his room.


	5. Call it a Bad Romance

_A/N: Well, sorry for the incredibly slow updates, kiddos. Had someone remind me how fickle I'd been in doing it, and tried to make amends. Sorry it's not longer, but I hope it's well received. Though I've been unnaturally captivated by the Bad Romance (I won't be blamed! There's something evil and hypnotic in there! It's making me buy McDonald's and Nike! It's telling me I want to join the Army!), I figured Toad would have less tolerance than I and would share my original reaction of confused horror. (if it helps, imagine her as the female Marilyn Manson, 'cuz she totally is, BUT I digress!) I'll try to get another one out before too long, but no promises. You know how I roll._

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**Chapter 5: Call it a Bad Romance**_  
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The incessantly pounding notes of Lady GaGa's Bad Romance shook the glass of Toad's window well past two a.m. The flicker of firelight cast the strange dancing shadows across his wall as he lay in bed, glaring at the ceiling. Cruel and Unusual, came to mind. His finger twitched involuntarily with the desire to strangle the responsible party. He resolved himself to hunting down that leather glad spangly psycho, when he got out of here, and chopping her up into little bits, after forcing her to listen to her own music on repeat for a minimum of seventy two hours. The decision brought a smirk to his lips and he resigned himself to the the fact he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, and sat up.

The last month and change had been fairly uneventful and Toad was getting antsy. His health seemed to be improving, Dr. Grey seemed fairly surprised by it and was running no end of tests to determine why. Thus far she'd concluded that it had something to do with the natural oils his skin secreted to help him adhere when climbing. The rapid improvement of his health was a true testament to how damaging the wounds he'd taken as a child truly were for the scars to last so prominently.

Despite Storm's promise to be watching him, he'd seen neither hide nor hair of the weather bitch since her warning. Most of the senior members of the X-Staff, in fact, had kept their distance. Though he'd let the near-altercation with Rogue and the junior-jerks roll off his shoulders, Toad hadn't been keen on a repeat, and had been spending most of his time in his room. He wasn't sure at what point he'd started thinking of it as 'his', but it certainly was by now. Dirty clothes were strewn all over the floor, the smell of smoke clung to the air, his sheets were graying and stiff in certain places as he wasn't one to over-wash. The pristine walls were currently marred with cigarette burns and absent scribbles near the window where he was prone to sit and look out at the grounds. His collection of student flasks had grown to three, and he currently had them stuffed under his mattress. Along with the scanty devil, he'd found one sporting skull and crossbones and another that said 'Boom' and was metallic pink. He took a moderate amount of amusement in knowing they couldn't complain to anyone about the theft and though the alcohol contained within was almost always wretched and too sweet, it was something. The real joy came in depriving the students.

Fuck it, he decided, sliding out of bed and reaching for the last of his clean clothes, still folded neatly in a half opened drawer where someone had taken care to leave them. He glanced out the window as he did up his fly and grinned as he saw one of the students fall to the grass around the bonfire. He supposed the adults must have taken in a show or something and left an irresponsible party in charge, and that the students were taking advantage of it. If he'd had to guess he would have assumed Wolverine was the one not paying the party any mind, though Toad wondered how he could stand the music. Especially with that enhanced hearing. Torture. He shuddered for the man and then checked his reflection in the mirror.

"Ain't gettin' any prettier."

He slipped out into the dark, keeping his head down and trying to blend into the crowd of drunken hooligans on his way to the card table they'd set up to hold the booze. Though the bonfire offered some light, clouds moved overhead, keeping the moon's rays from reaching the partiers and Toad's identity well concealed. The drunken state of the majority of the students helped too.

The print-ad kid had hold of a nondescript brunette's hands and was spinning with her, laughing, while Rogue hung back with a red plastic cup in hand, smiling at their antics. The greasy haired kid who'd backed him up at the tree was trying to dry hump a ginger girl, in the guise of dancing, who was doing her best to swat him away.

There were plenty of other young idiots in various stages of intoxication, dancing with abandon. Some were considerably better dancers than others. Toad choked down his first drink of whatever it was came easily to hand (tasted like jaiger...damned kids), to keep from laughing aloud at a girl with lavender hair attempting to quite poorly, drop it like it was hot.

He filled up the red plastic cup with another generous helping of the next bottle that came to hand, turned as he brought it to his lips and froze.

_She could do porn_, was the first thought he had, _**good** porn_. _Hell, she could make 'Jennifer's' Body look like Sloth from the fucking Goonies._ His next thought was that he had been pirating way too many shitty movies in his downtime, but that was quickly dismissed as he watched her move. All the murderous intentions toward GaGa evaporated as she rocked her hips in time to the music.

They were both hot, he realized, when he could draw his gaze away from her bosom and the way her thighs tightened when she wound down. The girl that first drew his attention was his height with a shock of blonde hair, blue eyes drowning beneath dark lashes and full pouting lips. The studs in her nose and brows caught in the firelight and glittered, drawing him in. Curvy proportions that were somehow...impossibly, on a gymnast's body. Goddamned perfect ass. And she was grinding provocatively against a girl nearly as lovely as she was. Shorter with predominantly Asian features, equally as fit though slimmer, more delicate. Contrasting sharply with the punk garb that clung and hung in effortless perfection. Big silver hoops swung against an angled jawline.

He brought the cup up to his mouth and swallowed what proved to be a mouthful of cheap vodka (damned kids, honestly!). The duo was obviously enjoying all the attention their spectacle was drawing, as they grew more daring, hands running over too-much exposed skin. Toad shook his head and grinned. The night was really looking up.

The Blonde was the sexier of the two and it was by intention. The dark-haired girl was bouncier, more adept at a hip-hop, break dancing style. The Blonde raked black painted nails up her own thighs, over her toned belly, cupping his own breasts, eyes shut and face turned toward the sky. He heard a girl to his left mutter, "skank," to her friend, and he shook his head. Maybe he was just a sucker for a gorgeous skank. _What man, wasn't?_ he mused.

The booze went to his head and he embraced that invincible feeling that had gotten him in trouble more than once. Striding forward, while her back was still to him, he put both hands low on her hips and pressed his chest to her back, moving with her, sucking in a sharp breath at the feel of those curves against his own firm musculature. He didn't imagine he could get away with it for long, but he was hoping inebriation and reckless abandon were on his side. He felt the girl tremble slightly at the unexpected contact, but she didn't stop moving, imaging it was someone she knew, he was sure.

Feeling bold, he slid his hand to splay low on her belly, forcing her movements to follow his, his other hand tracing the contours of her body to her wrist, pulling her arm up and back to his own shoulder. She was all-too happy to comply. Her eyes stayed obediently closed, keeping up the illusion. He played her like a doll, complete control, and she let him. She smelled like sugar, one of those overpowering body creams the young women favored. He pressed his cheek against her ear and turned in so that his nose and lips brushed that soft skin, breathing her in deep. He could feel her heart thundering in her chest as her body became slowly aware that this was not a familiar touch.

It was dark, but not so dark as to keep his identity a secret now. Her friends had stopped dancing and were staring with open-mouthed horror at the torrid display before them. The dark-haired Asian girl was sputtering breathlessly, hands shaking as she fought to find the words.

"T...T...Tabby..."

The urgency in her tone must have pulled the Blonde out of stupor, because she stiffened and her eyes flew open, though she couldn't turn to see him, pressed close as he was. He tightened his grin and murmured against her perfect skin.

"You are _so bloody beautiful_, _Tabby_."

Then he let her go, and she stumbled forward and spun to see him smirked at her. The other students had started gathering their supplies, or just flat out scurried back for their dorm rooms as her dark-haired friend clutched at her arm, trying to pull her away. Tabby stared at him, plump lips parted as she panted for air, pupils wide as she drank in the sight of him without shuddering. _Without fear. **Surprise**. **Not fear.** Interesting**.**_

Then the girls turned and ran back for the school, leaving him suddenly alone out on the lawn and watching her as she glanced back once and met his gaze unflinchingly, before she was tugged through the doorway into bright normalcy. _Interesting._


End file.
